


Glow, Star

by Dulcesia



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I just really love Sandalphon, If I have to feed myself by creating content for him, Late at Night, Literal Sleeping Together, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sharing a Bed, then that's how it is, there's nothing going on they're just being cute, they're just sleeping side by side
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-01-04 13:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18344825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dulcesia/pseuds/Dulcesia
Summary: Sandalphon sleeps easier at night when there's a certain someone by his side.





	1. Midnight

The stars, Sandalphon had found, were better company than people. They didn’t demand much of him; just a few glances their way to remind them they still glowed, and a bit of admiration now and then. They were uncomplicated, simple, and cold. That cold relieved him, in a way that none of the people aboard the Grandcypher did.

There were those that still watched him with wary eyes. Their distrust chilled the air, made his steps a little quicker, his stare a little sharper. He had almost killed the person they admired the most. Leader, Captain, Singularity: it didn’t matter what he called her. Beloved would be the title that suited her best.

And those that forgave him more quickly, those like their captain, tried too hard to make him feel like he belonged. Sweet words, constant questioning to his well-being, invitations to come chat or dine or do something mundane together. 

Neither type of people was something he enjoyed. Too bitter, too sweet-- at some point, extremities started to blur together.

But if Sandalphon did not think about people trying to befriend him, or those who found every excuse to despise him, worries started to tug at him, trying to catch his attention. Trying to remind him.

There were things he blamed himself for. There were people he could not forget. Too many mistakes, too many memories, crowded his head. It spurred him to keep going, keep moving, but reminded him that he could not stop, not until he achieved everything he needed to. If he lingered too long to think about one thing, then another dragged his attention away, and so on, and so on, until his thoughts knotted together. 

Sleep was a gift he was deprived of. Sleep visited him in bursts, snatches, a few hours here and there. He had forgotten the last time he had woke up with the sun. There were too many things that kept him awake.

Yes, Sandalphon preferred the company of the stars. Or perhaps, he had no choice but to enjoy their company at this time of night. 

It would have been fine this way. Him, the stars, the quiet deck, the gentle hum of the ship, the wind in his hair, the kiss of clouds across his face. 

“Sandalphon? Why are you still up?”

Like she always seemed to do, she showed up at the most inconvenient times.

“Should I not be?” he asked archly, keeping his gaze pinned to the stars.

“You don’t need my permission,” Djeeta teased lightly. “I’m just worried you might be tired tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine. Perhaps you’re the one that needs to go to bed, if you have enough time to worry after others.”

When she gave no response, Sandalphon entertained the hope she had left him to sleep. But no. He could hear her gentle steps across the deck until she was by his side. Even without looking at her, he could feel her presence. 

Djeeta was the sun; warm, bright, hopeful. Everything gravitated around her. The entire crew were sunflowers in her presence. Even something in him gave a small sigh when she was around. Captain, Leader, Singularity. Beloved.

“I think I’ll stay up,” she said.

“Then it’s your fault.”

“My fault?”

“If you’re tired tomorrow,” he said.

“We can be tired together,” she replied.

“I doubt it.”

“You don’t get tired easily, Sandalphon?”

“I’m used to sleeping little.”

“Do you have insomnia? Or is something bothering you?”

“I don’t need much sleep to function,” he said, ignoring her question.

“Sometimes I stay up, too,” she said. Djeeta always forgave him, never pushed. “I have… dreams.”

“Dreams?”

“Nightmares, sometimes. I can’t sleep afterwards, so I just read.”

“I didn’t know that,” he said, and the words felt foolish on his lips.

“Wouldn’t it be stranger if you did? I’ve never told anyone,” she said.

Sandalphon glanced at her, just once, at this statement. Her cheeks were rosy, her hair ruffled by the wind. She had wrapped a pale blue blanket around herself, to protect against the chill, and to cover her white night dress. And in her eyes, he could make out the glitter of the stars. Bright, and close enough to touch.

“Were you kept up by nightmares again?” he asked.

She shrugged, sliding down to the wooden floor. Her calves were tucked under her thighs, her white dress puddling around her. She tucked her blanket more securely around her. Sandalphon was certain it was cold on the floor. Weren’t her legs freezing? It annoyed him that she had done that, and it annoyed him more than he noticed.

“Maybe.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t have to give you one,” she said.

“You’re--”

“Insufferable?”

“No.”

“Amazing?” she suggested.

“Strange. You’re strange, Singularity.”

Djeeta looked up at him. Her mouth was quirked, her nose red. There was something inscrutable in her eyes, for just a second, before she burst into a grin and held out her hand. “That’s not the worst thing I’ve been told!”

“... What are you doing?” he asked.

“Talking to you?”

“No, I mean…  _ that _ .”

“Giving you my hand?” She wiggled her fingers. “Don’t you want to feel if my fingers are still delicate?”

A flush crept up his neck, warm against the night’s chill. “I already told you I regretted that decision, didn’t I?”

“I know, I know. Well?”

He felt a flicker of hesitation, before his fingers slowly crept across her palm of their own accord. She took that chance to entwine their fingers together, before she pulled him down. He dropped, legs giving way, until he was shoulder to shoulder with her, so close he could lean his head and bury his face in her hair.

“Was that necessary?” Sandalphon said, breath shaky.

Djeeta shrugged. “I just thought it'd be easier to talk if we’re on the floor together.”

“You could have said something instead of doing this.”

“It was faster this way.”

Their hands were still entwined. Palm to palm, fingers laced together tightly, a sphere of warmth. Her fingers were still as delicate as he remembered. Slender, strong, with her palm calloused from battle. Scars covered her hands like constellations. Did she notice what they were doing? Wasn’t she going to withdraw her hand away?

“The stars are beautiful,” Djeeta said with a sigh. “Hey, are you cold?”

“Isn’t that a question I should be asking you?” he said sourly. “You’re not really dressed for this weather.”

“I have a blanket. You don’t.”

“I don’t need one.”

She was silent, then, and he turned his gaze to the stars. They were rich, thickly spread like drops of cream against the velvet of night. 

This conversation with her was directionless, purposeless. They were holding hands, for no reason at all. And yet, he was still here, on the cold floor, unable to withdraw his hand from hers.

The sun was the grandest star of them all, and right now, it was close enough to touch. She was warm, right next to him, and somehow her banter had drove away the worst of his tangled thoughts. The night didn’t seem as cold, not with her. He blinked slowly, once, twice. And before he knew it, his eyes closed and did not open.

Sandalphon couldn’t remember any of his dreams. He was not sure if he wanted to, or if he could even call them dreams. They streaked passed him in a blur of color and sound. He saw only fragments: a piece of blue sky, a coffee tree sprouting, smoke and fire. 

He started awake. He had dozed off for only a few minutes, but it was more than he usually managed to sleep during the night. He stiffened. Djeeta’s hand was in his, and her head was… her head was lying on his shoulder. 

Somehow, she had fallen asleep, too, in the cold. A moment’s panic gripped him; were humans able to sleep in the cold without issue? Wasn’t it dangerous for her?

He looked at her, urgently, but her breathing was steady, and her eyelashes fluttered. Her head was still warm and soft on his shoulder, her hand still gripping his tightly. Good.

“You’re so strange,” he whispered. Of course, she couldn’t hear. She always made him want to do pointless things.

It wouldn’t do them any good to stay out here. If he fell asleep again, or if the others caught them together, it would cause more trouble than he wanted. And he couldn’t just leave her out here by herself, not in the cold, with only a blanket. 

Without hesitation, he picked her up, his arm looped under her knees, his hand on her back. She was light in his arms, despite the muscle in hers. Her eyelashes casted shadows on her face, her mouth slightly parted. 

He trekked through the darkened underbelly of the ship as swiftly as he could. Where was Djeeta's room again? 

When he found it, he sighed, trying to open the knob quietly while keeping a hold on her. The door opened with the smallest click, and he nudged it aside with his hip.

Sandalphon moved carefully, navigating without much light, until his foot hid the frame of her bed. She hardly stirred the whole time he set her down gently, and he clumsily pulled the covers over her shoulders. It was all much more effort than it should be to bring someone to bed.

He stopped once she was tucked in. His hand tingled, and he raised it in front of his eyes, barely making out the shape in the gloom. He opened it, and clenched it shut. It still retained the glow Djeeta’s touch gave him.

Sandalphon should leave. It would be too confusing, too hard, to explain why he was in Djeeta’s room at this hour if anyone were to catch him. But still. Still. He could not forget the moment of pure sleep he had gotten when he was by her side, his first one in a while. And… he could not forget his hand in hers, and her head on his shoulder, so close he could kiss it as many times as he wanted to, and her laugh and gentle words and teasing… 

It would be wrong to stay. But… “Sandalphon?” Her voice, made slow and tender by sleep. His name a diamond in her mouth. Always she showed up at the most inconvenient of times. “Are you here?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“You’re tired,” he said.

“Maybe… Where are we?”

“In your room.”

“Did you carry me here? Thank you…” Her voice trailed off.

“You’re welcome. Get some rest.”

“Okay… but....”

“But?”

“Don’t go.”

Would it be okay to do so? And why? Why was she like this? Strong and delicate and a mess of contradictions. She… she made him feel...

“Okay,” he murmured back. “You’re so needy.”

“Come here,” she said.

“Where?”

“Bed.”

“Why?”

“Sleep next to me.”

“What?” he hissed, ears red. “D-do you even…”

“Don’t sleep on the floor.”

“I-- Well, your bed is hardly--”

“Please?”

“It’s not right!”

“Please?” Djeeta repeated. “Sandalphon?”

He held his breath as he came to her side. He lowered himself on the edge of the bed with a creak, felt the rustle of sheets. Djeeta shuffled, and there was a gap between them on her bed. He sat there for a few moments, trying to keep his mind blank.

“Lie down.”

“I’m on your bed--”

“Lie down.”

He lowered himself, stiffly, uncomfortably. He dared not move an inch. She was so close Sandalphon could feel her warmth, her shoulder almost-- but not quite-- brushed against his through layers of blanket.

“You’re so strange,” he whispered.

“So are you.”

Quiet again. He closed his eyes so he could see nothing, not the roof of Djeeta’s ceiling, and not her curled up next to him. She had said his name like it was a diamond. She had a million stars in her eyes. And always, always, he found himself pulled in by her gravity, whenever he wanted to be or not.

Sandalphon sighed, gentle, and let sleep pull him under its mellow waters. And just before he sank, he wondered why his hands still longed for hers. 


	2. Early Morning

Darkness floated around Sandalphon as he trekked down the ship’s silent, empty halls. The only warmth he felt was the cup of coffee that he nursed in his hands, an offering to ward off rest. It had been days since he had last stolen a snatch of sleep, and almost a week since he had slept so contently by Djeeta’s side.

Sandalphon had never intended for anything to happen with her. She was supposed to be like everyone else: he was most comfortable when she was at a safe distance, and the most trouble she brought was to ask for a cup of sweetened coffee. Somehow he had let his guard down, and Djeeta had started sneaking so close to his heart he was surprised whenever she was not by his side, with a smile and thoughtful kindness.

Unexpectedly, suddenly, he had been pulled into her orbit. But perhaps it had only been a matter of time. There had been something about her even from the beginning, when he first saw her. There was some innate tenderness and warmth she had carried, and it made him want to melt into her arms and profess his fears and worries. He had hated it, had hated her, for reminding him of his weakness. But perhaps that was why everyone on the ship had been so attracted to her: she would listen, she would understand.

He had tried not to see Djeeta in the past few days; the only thing he would have been able to think about would be the softness of her hands, and the way she smiled at him. He feared his want would show in his eyes, a want he was not supposed to have. 

Sandalphon stepped onto the deck of the ship. The wind rushed by in a whispered song, and  silver-brushed clouds and dark skies spread below him like a midnight sea. The frosty stars winked at him from up above, the only company he would have again tonight. At least, that was what he thought until he saw the darkened figure that stood at the railing, blue blanket fluttering around her shoulders, short blond hair rippling. 

He stood still, contemplating whether he should go to Djeeta’s side or just leave her be. But her moonlit figure was lonely; it was different from her usual confident posture. 

“Shouldn’t the captain of such a large ship know better than to stay up late past her bedtime?” he called finally, and Djeeta turned.

“I’m only up to catch people like you,” she retorted, but she couldn’t hide her smile at his presence. “It’s late, Sandalphon.”

“I didn’t notice. Thank you for telling me.”

He stepped towards her, her gaze luminous as his grip on his cup tightened. His fingers played along the cracks and chips on the blue painted surface as she spoke. “Haven’t we had a conversation like this before?”

“Considering the time, I would hope not.”

He was right next to Djeeta now, her arms resting on the railing of the ship as she gazed at the swirling bank of clouds below. “You need better sleeping habits.”

“You’re one to talk,” Sandalphon responded.

“As captain of the ship, I reserve the right to worry over the well-being of my crew, especially the more troublesome members.”

“Troublesome? Are we still talking about me, or are we talking about you now?”

“Very funny,” she said, pouting. “Still, you’re out here again?”

“You were here first.” He hesitated, memories from a week ago surfacing. “Was it because of nightmares?”

Djeeta didn’t speak. Instead, she looked at the cup in his hands. “Coffee will only keep you up.”

“I wasn’t going to sleep anyways, so does it matter?”

“Then can I have some?”

“It’s not your usual brand of disgustingly sweet--” Djeeta snatched the cup away from him before he could finish, turning it around in her hands in contemplation before she raised it and swallowed. Her lips pulled into a grimace as she held the cup away from her body. 

“It’s bitter,” she said at last.

“What did you expect?”

“That you might have learned what good coffee tastes like?” 

“If it bothers you so much, I’ll make you a sweeter cup next time,” he said irritably. “Then I won’t have to waste good coffee on your unrefined palate.”

“Next time?” Djeeta said curiously, and a flush stole across his cheeks. Next time? There would be no next time to their strange, nightly meetings. Once was an accident, and twice was a coincidence, but thrice? 

Sandalphon leaned over and flicked her nose. “I mean the next time you beg me to make you a cup of coffee.”

“What if I asked you to make one for me tomorrow night? Around this time?” She glanced at him, handing his cup back carefully, her touch lingering as their hands brushed. “And I don’t beg.”

“Tomorrow night? You should be asleep, not here.”

“But you’re always up.” A grumpy note crept into her tone. “And it’s not fair of you to tell me this when I know you don’t sleep. I worry.”

Sandalphon sighed, downing the last of his coffee. It was cooler now, and it slipped down too quickly.  “Well, I suppose there’s nothing we can do about either of our problems.”

“There is.”

He turned to her, and she looked away. “What?”

“I mean, well...” Her fingers started tugging at the blanket around her shoulders. “I just meant… I slept really well that night when you were with me.”

“What?” Sandalphon said, astonished.

“What?” Djeeta retorted.

“Are you suggesting we do that again? It’s-- wrong,” he snapped.

“I know,” she murmured, chagrined now. “I’m sorry I bothered you. It was just a sudden thought, that’s all.”

The wind filled the sudden gap in their conversation with whistling. Uncertain and unnecessary thoughts flew around his head. 

It wasn’t as if he hated sleeping next to her. It was horribly soothing, and it made the nightmares that plagued him seem distant and unimportant. But it was  _ embarrassing  _ that she could make him feel that way, so if he accepted her offer, he would have to confront all those awkward feelings upfront. The embarrassment was oddly reminiscent of the hatred he has first felt for her, but now all that hatred had drained away, replaced by something he refused to name. But beyond all that, her face was crestfallen, and he had a strong desire to do anything to wipe it away.

“If it helps you,” he began carefully, trying to find something reasonable to say underneath his confusing wants. “I wouldn’t mind-- doing it again. So I don’t catch you out here, disturbing my space.”

“It’s everyone’s space,” she retorted, but there was no real malice behind her words. “But… are you sure?”

“I didn’t say no, did I? I agreed to it.” His embarrassment rose in waves. 

“But I really don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”

“It’s beneficial to me, too. Being with you helps me sleep,” he added grudgingly. 

Djeeta smiled, more bright and lovely than the moon. “Good! I’ve been worried that you haven’t been sleeping lately.”

He turned abruptly, away from her gaze. “Well then? Do you plan on sleeping on the roof?”

“Only if you want to.”

He snorted. “What do you think?”

“Then we can go to my room.”

Her room?

As if knowing he would reject the offer if they stayed too long, Djeeta darted across the deck, the wind blowing her dress behind her. He followed, always a few paces behind. Even in the dark, she walked with expert steps through the ship. All her time spent aboard it gave her a sense of familiarity and understanding he had yet to fully grasp himself.

Djeeta slipped inside her room, and Sandalphon paused just outside, his cup still in his hands. It reminded him too much of what happened a week ago. In all his millennia of existence, he had never quite experienced anything that Djeeta made him feel. He had yet to decide whether it was pleasant or not. 

“Are you going to sleep out there?” she called.

“Only if our gracious captain wants me to,” Sandalphon said, stepping in.

“Oh, just come in,” Djeeta said.

They stood awkwardly for a while, and he set his cup a nearby table, clearing his throat. Sandalphon started when Djeeta suddenly flopped onto the bed, pulling the blankets over her. She turned on her side, and he wondered if she would say anything. Nothing. After a few more seconds of watching, he decided to move. He laid as far from Djeeta as possible, leaning stiffly against the headboard, feeling as if he could fall from the bed at any moment. She reached a hand out to tug at his arm, now facing him with a frown. 

“What?”

“Sandalphon, are you going to fall asleep like that?”

“Maybe.”

“Scoot closer! Come on, you should know a bed works.”

“Right next to you?” he asked. “Are you sure?”

There was a beat of silence. “I don’t mind.”

“You really shouldn’t say things like that,” he whispered, moving as close to her as he dared. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel Djeeta’s presence beside him, like a warm, lingering glow.

“Why not?”

“Why do you think?”

“I’m just being honest,” she protested.

Silence again, comfortable and safe. He was okay, he was okay. His eyes drifted closed, and for once, he could feel the full weight of the past week crush him. He was exhausted; how had he managed to stay up for so long? On edge, tense, waiting for fears he couldn’t name or fight.

“Are you asleep?” Sandalphon asked quietly into the darkness.

“Hm.”

“I will say this once, and only once. Thank you.”

“What?” she said incredulously.

“I said I would only say it once,” he snapped.

“I heard you! I just can’t believe it. I was... worried about you, you know?” she said softly.

“Why were you even up tonight?”

“Aren’t I always?”

“Oh, please. I’m there more often than you, and I hardly see you around,” Sandalphon said.

“You didn’t show up there all week!”

“How would you know that?” he asked suspiciously.

“Well, um…”

“Well what?”

“I…”

“You?”

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Fine. Someone told me you didn’t sleep as much as you should,” Djeeta mumbled. “So I… started to stay up, because I was worried… Last week, I was relieved to find you out there. And… I might have been waiting for you on the deck ever since, just in case… you showed up.”

“You’re strange. There’s no need to do that.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways, so why not?”

“That’s very healthy of you, captain,” he said.

“You have no right to lecture me, not with your habits.”

“So what? They’re my habits. You still didn’t need to do what you did.”

“But I wanted to! You’re important,” she protested.

“Everyone on the ship is, captain,” he said. “But I suppose you find me useful.”

“No! Everyone is important to me, but you’re…” Her words drifted off.

“I’m what?”

“Hmmmm.”

“Djeeta.”

“What?”

“Why am I important to you?”

“You talk too much. I’m sleepy. Good night, Sandalphon.”

“You are absolutely insufferable.”

“Good  _ night _ .” 

How could he sleep after all that? For once it wasn’t insomnia that kept him up, but Djeeta’s words. He was important? But she said everyone was. So what made him so special she would stay up searching for him? How irritating. Why hadn’t she finished her sentence? It shouldn’t matter, but it did.

Djeeta shifted beside him as he pondered. He stiffened in surprise as she curled up right next to him, so close they were pressed side to side. Sandalphon held his breath as Djeeta let out a tiny sigh, resting her head against his chest. He couldn’t pull away. Was she asleep? Or was she conscious, but so sleep-deprived she just wanted to seek out the closest source of heat? Either way, he found he didn’t really care.

And of course it was a coincidence, too, that he gently found her hand and held it in his. Her arm was moving around too much, and it would disturb him as he attempted to sleep. And it was all right, too, when her hand squeezed his back.

For the first time in a week, Sandalphon felt himself drifting into a dreamless slumber, even if he wished to stay awake a bit longer to enjoy the pleasant warmth in his hand.


End file.
